


Tattoos & Triggers

by StilesIsMySpiritAnimal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Asshole Jackson, BAMF Stiles, Danny Mahealani is Part of the Pack, Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Everybody Wants Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey Being an Asshole, Kidnapped Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Magical Tattoos, Minor Stiles Stilinski/Original Male Character(s), Misunderstandings, Original Character(s), POV Multiple, Pining Derek Hale, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Powerful Stiles Stilinski, Scott is a Bad Friend, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski Leaves the Pack, Stiles Stilinski Returns, Stiles Stilinski is Pushed Out of the Pack, Stiles Stilinski-centric, The Pack Being Idiots, badass stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23174749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StilesIsMySpiritAnimal/pseuds/StilesIsMySpiritAnimal
Summary: Stiles left Beacon Hills years ago. After seven years of nothing, the Hale-McCall Pack is asked to help another pack rescue two captives from a group of hunters not far from their territory.What they find is Stiles.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 75
Kudos: 1005
Collections: NotComplete22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!!! 
> 
> XOXOXOXOXOXO

_Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip._

Derek gritted his teeth. That had to be one of the most annoying sounds in the world, dripping water. Although, it was probably to be expected in a place like this. Derek looked around the gloomy metal corridor with disdain. He still didn’t understand why they were here, why they were risking their pack to help another pack.

Scott said they needed alliances, needed to branch out so when the Mead pack came to them for help, Scott was eager to agree. Derek scowled. He hated the politics of dealing with other packs, but since he was the only other born wolf and Peter flat out refused to participate, that left it up to him. The decision resulted in long hours ensconced in his family’s vault, usually with Lydia or Danny who were researching other things, to brush up on pack hierarchy and law. Isaac said he was always extra grumpy on those days.

Scott’s desire to _help_ is what led them to this godforsaken, abandoned, quite frankly disgusting, underground bunker. There were hunters holding two captives and apparently one of them was extremely important to the son of the Alpha that requested their help.

**~~~*~~~**

**~three weeks ago~**

The pack filed in, wary of being in another pack’s den, but Scott tried to make them as comfortable as possible. Alpha Mead brought his second, who happened to be his son, his enforcer, and a few other betas. Derek had explained to Scott that this was normal for negotiations and he shouldn’t view it as a threat, but Scott was still new to the concept of reaching out to other packs so it was obvious he was a bit flustered at having so many unknown wolves in the pack house.

Despite the tough appearance they put up, Derek could tell the pack was tired and beaten down. They weren’t a large pack, and only a few of them were present for the discussion. They seemed to huddle around their Alpha protectively.

Both packs arranged themselves around the massive dining room table that Lydia had forced Derek to buy, and they started talking, the Alpha explaining why they needed assistance.

“A group of hunters is holding two individuals captive about thirty miles from here, in an underground facility,” he started quietly. “We would go in ourselves but it has been near impossible to get information about their exact numbers. They seem to be coming and going all the time,” he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

Scott and several others nodded in understanding, hunters tended to be good at concealing their numbers and it had caused more than a few issues for them over the years.

“Do you have a rough estimate?” Peter asked dryly from his position behind Derek.

“About thirty or so? If I had to make a guess,” the Alpha responded, looking to his son, who nodded in agreement. Derek and Peter exchanged a look. Thirty hunters for two captives?

“And the captives?” Scott asked worriedly. The wolves on the other side shifted uncomfortably.

“We’re not sure,” Mead grimaced in apology. 

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” Derek asked, narrowing his eyes. Mead’s son responded quickly.

“We don’t know what the hunters are doing to them, but we know it’s not good.”

“How do you even know if they’re alive?” Peter demanded, ignoring Scott’s look of reproach.

“One we know for sure they won’t kill, he’s far too valuable.” The Mead wolves winced at their Alpha’s blunt words. “The other is good leverage against the first,” he ended with a half hearted shrug. Scott looked incredulous at their words.

“What’s so important about them that you would come all the way up here from Utah?” Peter asked casually. Mead and his son exchanged a look that spoke of a strong familial connection.

“One of them, he’s….. special,” the son hesitated. “That’s really all I can tell you. He’s an extremely private individual.”

“He is also hopefully going to be the next Alpha’s mate, which should be reason enough,” Mead interjected before any of the pack could object. 

“Special how?” Derek questioned suspiciously.

“He just is,” the son insisted stubbornly, tilting his chin up in defiance at Derek. His father gave him an exasperatedly fond look before turning back to Scott. 

“He has helped our pack on numerous occasions and if it weren’t for him most of us probably wouldn’t be alive.” Derek was stunned at the admission, and glanced at Peter, who was watching the   
Alpha in consideration. Alpha werewolves weren’t exactly known for accepting help. It was one of the reasons his family was so powerful, his mother having had the ability to persuade Alpha’s to accept the assistance and alliance of other packs.

“My son has decided he wants to take him as a mate, if the boy is willing,” Alpha Mead continued certainly while the left hand nodded from his other side.

“The boy has earned our respect and we consider him part of our pack.” The bulky beta added. The rest of their pack nodded in agreement.

The gesture did not go unnoticed by Peter, who knew as Talia’s enforcer that it was hard for the left to trust anyone. He and Derek exchanged another look and then Derek looked to Scott and nodded again.

“We understand how it feels to have a missing packmate, we’ll help you,” Scott said softly, feeling Derek stiffen beside him as he reached a hand over the table to shake Alpha Mead’s. His son visibly slumped in relief and Derek guessed that whoever this boy was, future alpha’s mate or not, must be important if an entire pack was willing to go to war with hunters for him. 

“Excellent! I will bring the rest of my pack tomorrow and we can discuss strategy,” the Alpha said with a smile and a seemingly renewed enthusiasm as the packs stood and dispersed from the table.

The Mead pack declined the offer of dinner or snacks, claiming they all needed to rest after the mad dash out of their territory. Scott showed them to the door and watched as they piled into their cars and headed down the Hale house’s ridiculously long driveway, Derek grumbling at his side.

“Whoever the hell this kid is, he better be worth it,” he said softly as they turned back into the house.

**~present~**

Derek watched as Mead and Scott discussed final preparations a few feet ahead of them. Peter was absently sharpening his claws against a metal pillar while Erika and Boyd stood a few feet away murmuring quietly.

The Mead pack stood stiffly, tension clear in the outline of their bodies, but Derek figured that was to be expected. Not many packs were battle ready like they were, and he could tell it was taking a toll on the softer wolves.

Derek sighed.

They never did figure out why the guy was so important, other than being Mead’s son, Andrew’s potential mate. Once in a while they caught snippets, a word here or there, about the boy. They guy they were holding with him was a wolf, apparently they traveled together. Peter had been able to eavesdrop enough to figure out that Mead was willing to let the wolf join his pack if the boy decided to be Andrew’s mate.

Derek had to admit, he was curious, they all were at this point. The Mead pack never lied to them, but only gave them the information necessary to pull off the operation and not get killed. The closer they got, the more agitated Andrew became. It was obvious that he cared deeply for the person they were saving and fully expected to make him his mate.

It made Derek’s chest hurt. He brought his hand up to rub around his heart absently. Lydia noticed and rubbed his arm sympathetically.

“Danny found something promising, we can look at it when we get home,” she said softly looking up at him. Derek didn’t respond. Scott watched their exchange with sad eyes.

As a group, Mead wolves in front, they continued down the passageway. Getting into the bunker had been easy, the hunters weren’t expecting one whole pack, let alone two so they went down without much of a fight.

The two were being held in the center of the bunker and the closer the wolves got the more blood they smelled. Andrew was practically vibrating and had fall a few steps back to calm down after gouging a hole in the stone wall. They came to a stop just before another set of double doors. They could smell the hunters and hear their rapid heartbeats.

“It looks like they’ve concentrated their forces here,” Mead said low enough for only the wolves to hear, closing his eyes in concentration for a moment. “No wolfsbane bullets.” Mead looked up at Andrew with a frown.

“They weren’t expecting wolves to come for him, you know how he is about secrets,” Andrew answered distractedly, glaring at the door like he could put a hole in it. Derek saw Peter narrow his eyes at the pair. Scott opened his mouth to ask a question, but he got cut off.

“We have the element of surprise on our side, let’s use it,” Andrew grinned ferally, his eyes wild. There were several ‘clicks’ as multiple pairs of claws were flicked out and Kira unsheathed her Katana. Mead looked to Scott and Derek, who nodded in agreement and they took off in a wave.

They burst through the doors fully shifted and surprised the hunters, who started shooting at them wildly. The hunters rallied around another set of double doors and Derek knew that’s where they were holding them. He caught Andrew’s eye and motioned towards the doors and they started to make their way towards them.

The sound of metal hitting metal was jarring as the wolves jumped and dodged around the frantic hunters. Derek spared a moment to find Peter and Cora, who were both grinning viciously at the violence. They were working together to disembowel the closest hunter and didn’t even pause as his head when his blood spray drenched both of them.

Derek really needed to reexamine the pride he felt at how efficient his pack was at taking out their enemies.

The two packs worked together to clear a path for Derek and Andrew to get to the doors, but the hunters continued to regroup and eventually those still standing formed a barrier into the room. Luckily the wolves were quick and agile, continuing to dodge the majority of the thankfully non-lethal bullets.

After a few minutes they realized they wouldn’t be able to get closer without taking at least one bullet. Derek’s eyes scanned around and landed on a jagged opening in the ceiling.

He caught Andrew’s attention and cupped his hands, motioning towards the ceiling. Andrew followed his gaze and nodded. He sprinted towards Derek and jumped into his palms, using the upwards momentum to vault upwards into the open space.   
  


One of the hunters yelled and pointed at the motion, but he was quickly cut off as a chunk of stone was hurled at his face, courtesy of Boyd and Isaac.

Derek would have to remember to thank them later. 

Andrew grunted and Derek smelled blood where the wolf was cut on the metal ceiling, but the wolf ignored it and reached down to help Derek through.

Making a jump his high school basketball coach would have been proud of, he locked his fingers with Andrew’s and was hauled through the opening. They crawled carefully around some rocks and old debris, ignoring the _clunk, cluck_ of bullets being fired at them before finding another open section behind the hunter’s line.

They dropped down silently behind the hunters, who were concentrating their fire at the rest of the two advancing packs and Derek felt no remorse as he gutted the closest one. Andrew ripped his claws across the throat of the other.

After several more minutes, it was over.

It was obvious that the hunters weren’t expecting anyone to come for the boy, let alone two werewolf packs. They were ill prepared and it was over quickly once the guns stopped shooting and the remaining hunters were swiftly dispatched.

Andrew seemed to spare no thought for the hunter he killed, not that Derek blamed him, if his mate had been taken he would be ripping the world apart to bring him home.

Andrew barreled through the double doors before anyone could stop him and they heard an anguished cry and smelled fresh blood, wolf blood.

The rest of them followed quickly.

Andrew had killed the three hunters still in the room and stood a bit frozen, watching his arm heal from a jagged knife cut and taking in the scene with an overwhelming anger they could all smell.

One of them was hanging from the ceiling, barely awake and seemed to be the source of the majority of the blood they’d smelled. Derek could only guess that this was the wolf, no one else could survive losing that much blood. He was conscious, but just barely. The cuts on his body seemed to be healing much too slow.

The other was slumped on his side in the center of the room surrounded by what looked like circles of runes and sigils.

Mead was working frantically trying to undo the ropes that attached the wolf to the ceiling but he couldn’t touch them. They were coated in wolfsbane. Lydia and Kira rushed over. Kira slashed the ropes with her Katana and Mead caught the body as if fell. 

Andrew rushed towards the circle, ignoring everyone else.

“Hang on, baby, just hang on.” Derek heard him muttering as he pulled a knife out of his pocket. 

“Damien? Damien can you hear me?” Alpha Mead questioned softly. The wolf opened his eyes a crack.

“Mica,” he breathed.

“Don’t worry Damien, Andrew’s getting Mica, he’s safe,” Mead said gently with a small smile. Damien coughed violently for a moment before passing out. Mead laid his head down gently and turned his attention to his son and the rest of the wolves followed suit.

Andrew was walking around the circle slashing his knife through various symbols while they rest of them watch apprehensively. When he finally cut the last one there was a brief flash of light and a wave of power extended from the circle, making the wolves double over.

Derek gasped and felt his eyes flickering back and forth. A look around the room confirmed the rest of the wolves were feeling it too.

It only lasted a few seconds and when everyone was in control again and they looked back up Andrew was kneeling next to the boy. Although, boy may not be an accurate word, Derek noticed. He was lying on his back, both of them were turned away, but it was easy to see how built he was since he was shirtless. Andrew carefully scooped him up and settled him on his lap, holding him tightly still facing mostly away from them. Derek thought it must be an instinct to shield his mate. In this position, though, it was easy to see the sleeves of tattoos running up and down both arms, as well as extending onto his back, it looked like.

“Dad do you have it?” Andrew asked, extending his hand, not taking his eyes of the man in his lap. Mead moved forward and handed him a small vial with what looked like blood in it.

Derek and Lydia exchanged an alarmed look. Mead must have noticed.

“Don’t worry it’s just a plant extract to help wake him up. He gave it to us to use in situations like this.” Derek nodded. Peter came up to his other side.

“Derek, those markings, that boy definitely isn’t human.” He said in a low voice. Derek looked at him sharply but Peter just nodded towards Andrew who was tipping the vial into the boy’s open mouth. The moment the liquid hit his tongue the boy’s chest seemed to expand and Andrew practically sobbed in relief. The tension in the Mead wolves seemed to dissolve and they were smiling at the pair.

“Mica, Mica, oh my god, I thought I lost you,” Andrew sobbed.

“D-Damien?” the man’s soft voice questioned, croaky and dry from disuse or screaming, Derek couldn’t tell which.

“He’s fine Mica. Passed out from blood loss but there won’t be any lasting damage,” Andrew said softly, running his fingers through the man’s hair.

A weak hand raised and cupped the side of Andrew’s cheek, making Derek look away. It felt wrong to intrude on such an intimate moment. Derek caught Scott’s attention as well as the rest of the pack and they took a few steps away to regroup while the Mead pack moved closer to surround Andrew and his mate.

A few minutes passed while Derek and Scott were discussing their next steps before Alpha Mead came up to them again.

“I can’t thank you and your pack enough,” he said sincerely, glancing behind him where Andrew was helping his mate stand.

“Can we meet this young man we risked our lives for?” Peter asked coolly and suspiciously. Scott rolled his eyes and frowned at the gesture, but Derek couldn’t help but feel the same suspicion Peter did.

Mead looked back at Andrew, who nodded without looking at them, his instincts having calmed down a bit.

“Of course, you might as well know now, he’ll want to repay you for your help. Fair warning though, he can be a bit abrasive,” Mead said with a chuckle as he started walking towards them. The wolves parted as they approached. The boy had his head buried in Andrew’s shoulder, Andrew was practically purring as he stroked his hair.

“Mica? I want to introduce you to the pack that helped us rescue you, the Hale-McCall pack,” Mead said. The boy went ramrod straight in Andrew’s arms and everyone seemed to still. The air was suddenly heavy with the smell of sweetgrass and thunder. It made Derek’s mouth water.

“Mica? Baby, what is it?” Andrew said worriedly. Slowly the man lifted his head from the shoulder supporting it and turned to look at the two packs.

Derek felt like his heart had been punched from his body, his chest throbbing. Scott’s mouth dropped open and Lydia gasped loudly. 

“ _Stiles?!?_ ” Scott choked out.

“Fuck,” Stiles sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fast, but I like to update as soon as I finish chapters. I mean, why make you wait??
> 
> XOXOXOXO

The air was thick with tension as the Mead pack stared at the pack and the pack stared at Stiles. Derek and the rest of the pack were looking at him like they couldn’t believe it. They had been looking for him for years and now Stiles was right here in front of them.

He was happy and slightly bitter that Scott’s goldfish impression hadn’t changed one bit.

“Mica? Do you know them?” Andrew questioned softly while the rest of the Mead pack turned to him in confusion. Stiles shook himself slightly.

“I did a long time ago, nothing to worry about,” Stiles said smoothly, clearing his throat painfully and turning fully to face them. If possible Scott’s mouth dropped open even more. Stiles ignored all their shocked expressions as he looked around, rubbing his arms slightly. Andrew eagerly shrugged out of his shirt and handed it over. Stiles shot him a small smile and ignored the slight whimper that came from the direction of the Hale pack as he pulled it on before they noticed several of his more important tattoos.

“Thank you, Alpha McCall and Hale pack, I appreciate the assistance you offered the Mead pack in my rescue,” he said formally, making eye contact with both Derek and Scott and ignoring the rest of the pack.

“Some form of repayment will be offered, I’ll have Alpha Mead contact you,” Stiles continued, gesturing vaguely and looking to the Alpha for confirmation, who looked stunned, as did the rest of the Mead pack.

“Y-you want me to negotiate for you?” Alpha Mead stuttered in surprise. Stiles nodded quickly, he felt like the room was closing in around him and he just wanted to get out of there. He leaned on Andrew a little more, which he hated that he had to do and took a deep breath gathering what was left of his magic. Before their eyes he seemed to stand up a little taller. He looked around in question and the pack parted for him so he could see Damien.

He started moving towards where the wolf was still laying and Derek couldn’t find the words to stop him he felt Isaac and surprisingly, Jackson practically vibrating next to him but neither spoke up. Luckily Scott seemed to have no such issue.

“Stiles wait!” Scott cried taking an aborted step towards him. “You can’t just leave!”

Stiles stiffened again and slowly turned back towards Scott.

“Like I said _Alpha McCall_ ,” his words laced with enough venom to make Scott falter, “thank you for your assistance but I need to take care of Damien. You may speak with Alpha Mead about what you and your pack would like for payment.”

No one could miss the very deliberate phrasing. Stiles was separating himself from Scott and the pack. Stiles continued to make his way to Damien. It took effort, but he was able to make it there and kneel down without help. He placed his hand on the wolf’s head and closed his eyes. Damn. This was going to take some juice and he didn’t dare do it in front of Scott and the pack.

He gathered Damien in his arms, a few of the Mead wolves were hovering, but they knew Stiles was perfectly capable. He stood up swiftly and turned to faces the two packs, once again ignoring the dumbstruck looks on the faces of his former pack. He nodded to Alpha Mead and turned and walked out the double doors, ignoring the throbbing in his chest, Andrew chasing after him.

~~~*~~~

The pack was left in stunned silence in the wake of Stiles’ exit. Derek could barely think. He turned to Scott, who from the looks of it felt much the same way. Alpha Mead cleared his throat nervously.

“I uh, I’m not really sure how this works, but what do you want from him?”

Derek looked at the alpha sharply. Scott looked around at the pack helplessly. None of them wanted payment from Stiles! They all looked like they’d been through the ringer. The pack had fallen apart when they realized Stiles was gone, there wasn’t a single one of them that wasn’t affected by his absence.

“What can we request?” Lydia spoke up, her discerning eyes narrowing at Mead. Derek nodded, it was a good question.

“From what he’s told me you can request pretty much anything,” Mead explained thoughtfully. “I know sometimes he gets requests for money, rare herbs, tokens and relics, basically, I think if it is in his power to give, he will.”

“Except sexual favors,” the left added with a dry chuckle. “The last time someone tried that he nearly took their head off, and Damien beat him within an inch of his life.” There was a chortle from the rest of the Mead pack, like they were remembering the situation fondly.

Scott looked a bit green at the mention of coerced sex and Derek wanted to punch something. People requesting sexual favors from Stiles!? His Stiles? The thought made him see red. 

“The bottom line is that Mica hates being indebted to anyone. If they help him in any way he offers payment,” Mead continued.

“So they can’t come back and ask for favors later. Smart boy,” Peter said bemusedly. Mead nodded in agreement.

“He told me once that he learned that lesson the hard way, so he would never let it happen again.” Mead shrugged.

Derek winced. Stiles never should have had to learn those lessons, not alone at least. His wolf howled at the thought of someone hurting Stiles.

“So, if we wanted to ask for, say a visit? He would do it?” Lydia asked, purposely keeping her voice light. Scott looked at her with glowing pride. It wasn’t the first time she had come up with a solution the rest of them would never have thought of. Lydia crossed her arms and stared at Mead, waiting for his answer.

Mead looked distinctly uncomfortable. Derek couldn’t blame him.

“It was obvious that Mica was distressed by your presence, but I’m not really in a position to say no,” Mead answered slowly, looking between Scott and Derek.

“Fine,” Scott answered before Mead could change his mind. “Have him come to our pack house tomorrow. You can give him directions I assume?” He asked in what Liam called his ‘Alpha business tone.’

Mead nodded slowly, obviously still uncomfortable with the way things played out. The Mead pack then filed out of the bunker, Mead and Scott exchanging a few more words before they shook hands. Once the doors closed behind them Scott’s expression turned positively gleeful.

Derek couldn’t help but give a brittle smile at his unbridled enthusiasm. After all this time they were finally going to get to see their lost packmate.

~~~*~~~

**~The Next Day~**

All the wolves head’s snapped to attention when they heard a car moving towards them on the long driveway. None of them really knew what to do with themselves and the living room reeked of anxiety. The whole pack was sprawled along the couches in an effort to look relaxed. They heard the car rumble to a stop and shut off. Derek frowned at Scott when they heard to car doors close but couldn’t hear any heartbeats.

Feet crunched along the gravel path towards the door and everyone held their breath.

The knock that came next was confident and loud. The fact that Stiles knocked at all said more about the divide between them than anything else. Seven years ago he would have barreled through the door all tangled limbs and sarcastic commentary.

Now though, there was just stoic silence as Scott gestured for Stiles to come in.

The wards flared as Stiles walked through the door and Deaton’s eyes narrowed. The rest of the pack didn’t seem to notice. They were all too busy staring at Stiles and the wolf next to him, who was busy taking in their immediate surroundings and assessing the pack members. Derek’s eyes flared like the wards.

“You brought a wolf into our den?” he gritted out.

“I go where Mica goes. If you want him to stay and talk to you, then I stay,” the wolf replied matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest. Derek wanted to growl in frustration. It didn't looked like the two were mated, but mating bites could be easily concealed. It would explain why the hunters grabbed Damien in the first place. The thought made him want to gag. 

Scott returned to his seat on the couch between Liam and Kira. Liam was fidgeting like he wanted to jump and hug Stiles. Scott understood the feeling completely, more than one joke had been made about Stiles and Scott being Liam’s dads, but somehow he figured the gesture would _not_ be appreciated.

“You’re Damien?” Scott questioned, looking a little hurt that Stiles didn’t want to be alone with them. The wolf shrugged noncommittally and looked at Stiles.

“Well, this is your payment, I’m here. What do you want?” Stiles asked coldly. The pack gaped at him.

Derek was trying very hard to contain the anger simmering underneath his skin. Stiles acted like he didn’t even want to be there! That he didn’t care that this was the first time they’d seen him in seven years! The changes were even more noticeable now that he was clean. Stiles stood tall and proud and _still_. He hadn’t fidgeted once since he walked through the door, Derek noticed. He looked relaxed, but Derek was willing to bet a week of dishes that he was more than ready for an attack.

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest to match Damien’s and stared at them pointedly. The movement drew Derek’s attention to the way the sleeves of his shirt stretched around his biceps. The shirt was a deep red color that accentuated his amber eyes. Derek’s gaze traveled lower and took in the tight black pants and heavy boots. Damn. Stiles looked _good._

“You look so different,” Scott murmured softly, eyes roving over Stiles’ form. Stiles scoffed, lowering his arms and bringing attention to the swaths of tattoos.

“A lot’s changed Scott.”

“I think what Scott meant to say was, you’ll have to give us a minute, we’re not used to this…. new you,” Lydia said smoothly from her place on the couch. Several nods came from the pack and Stiles eyed her coolly before turning his eyes back to Scott. That movement alone told Derek more than he figured Stiles ever would. Seven years ago, even as friends, Stiles would have been all over Lydia’s impressed tone.

“I see you added some new members,” Stiles continued nonchalantly, his eyes rolling over Danny and Parrish.

“What are you?” Deaton asked abruptly. Stiles’ eyebrows rose into his hairline while Damien tried and failed to contain his snort.

“Deaton!” Scott hissed.

“What?!” the older man defended. “My wards flared when he walked through the door. What I don’t know is why.” He looked back at Stiles. Derek thought of what Peter said about his tattoos when they were in the warehouse. They all jumped in surprise when Damien started laughing.

“So none of you know what you so casually threw away all those years ago?!” His laughter softened as he wiped at his eyes.

“Damien,” Stiles said warningly. The wolf made a visible effort to quiet down but the smirk remained.

“Forgive him,” Stiles said with a fond smile. “He likes being dramatic.”

“Saved your ass a time or two!” Damien shot back. Stiles’ smile grew wider but he didn’t respond. When he looked back to the pack the smile faded. He cleared his throat.

“Again, why am I here?”

“We wanted to see you, especially after what happened with the hunters,” Erica piped up from her spot on Boyd’s lap. Damien snorted again.

“Andy made a bigger deal out of the situation than he should have.” Stiles sighed. Derek wanted to growl at the nickname.

“As I recall you were surrounded by a circle of runes that were meant to kill you,” Peter stated, raising a sardonic eyebrow. Stiles grinned at him sharply in return.

“Don’t worry, it would take a hell of lot more than that to kill me.”

“Yet you were captured by hunters?” Erica snorted.

“A miscalculation on my part, it won’t happen again,” Stiles dismissed. Derek almost laughed. Only Stiles would refer to getting kidnapped and almost violently murdered by hunters a ‘miscalculation.’ 

“They told us you were important to their pack,” Scott responded carefully. A soft grin appeared on Stiles’ face.

“So it’s true then?” Derek gritted out, hands forming into fists to try and control the anger bubbling inside his chest. “You’re going to be his Alpha Mate when he takes over?”

Stiles sighed again and glanced at Damien, who shrugged.

“The situation’s complicated.” The pack paused, waiting to see if Stiles was going to elaborate. When it appeared he wasn’t Lydia tried another tact.

“They certainly went to a lot of trouble to get you back.” This time Stiles snorted.

“Most of them feel like they owe me something. I’ve gotten them out of more than one,” Stiles paused, choosing his words carefully, “unfortunate situation. I’m sure they just felt like they were repaying the favor.”

“So you don’t live with them?” Scott asked, confused. Damien laughed and Stiles grinned.

“Scott, we don’t even live in the states anymore.” The pack was stunned. No wonder they were never able to find him.

“Where do you live?” Isaac asked curiously. Stiles eyed him long enough to make Isaac squirm further into Danny before answering. 

“Europe.” Came the clipped reply. More significant glances were exchanged as the pack tried to absorb the new information. Derek was confused, Stiles left the United States? What could possibly have been that bad that Stiles fled the country?

“What do you mean, anymore?” Scott tried.

“I mean not anymore. We lived here for a while, but then moved.”

Scott huffed at the lack of details.

“What about your dad?”

“Look, can we not do this?” Stiles said frustrated. “Can we not pretend that we’re besties that are going to ride off into the sunset? The _only_ reason I’m here is to settle your payment for helping the Mead Pack save me and Damien. That does _not_ entitle any of you to details about my personal life!” Stiles snapped. Damien reached out and laid his hand softly on Stiles’ back and Derek wanted to growl at the visible relaxing of Stiles’ shoulders. He hadn’t even been able to tell he was tense.

“We missed you!” Scott shouted, jumping up from the couch. “We’ve spent the last seven years looking all over the country for you!” Stiles scowled at him and Damien let loose a low growl.

“I know,” Stiles replied harshly. Scott gaped at him.

“You know?” Scott repeated dumbly.

“Yes, Scott. I knew you were looking for me, obviously I didn’t want to be found.” Stiles replied coldly letting his eyes wander over the rest of the pack. 

“How can you say that?!” Scott cried.

“It’s not a complicated concept, Scott.” Stiles said condescendingly. There were several involuntary growls that cut off abruptly, like no one could believe they were growling at _Stiles_. Scott continued undeterred.

“We’ve been trying to find you for years, Stiles!”

“Why, Scott?”

“Why?!” Scott asked incredulously, as if he couldn’t fathom why Stiles would ask such a question.

“Yeah, Scott. Why? I was only doing what you told me to!” Derek saw both Isaac and Jackson flinch at that.

“What?!”

“You told me to leave.” Stiles stated calmly, the scowl smoothing out into a blank mask. A deep rumble came from Scott’s chest. Damien stepped up to Stiles’ side, arms crossed again. The message was clear, they were a team. 

“You and your pack had a meeting, remember? A meeting I wasn’t invited to, and decided I couldn’t be trusted after the Nogtisune and killing Donovan and _Theo_ ,” he snarled. “There was too much ‘lingering resentment’ towards me,” his voice dripped sarcasm. “You said I wasn’t welcome anymore.” Stiles eyes bore into Scott’s until the True Alpha looked away. He looked about as gutted as Derek felt. Stiles met his eyes briefly before turning them to Isaac, who was asking another question.

“Why did you leave?” Isaac asked timidly. Stiles gave him his patented you’re-too-stupid-to-live look and it might have made Derek laugh with sheer relief if it hadn’t been aimed at one of his pack.

“Seriously?” Stiles asked in disgust while Damien growled. Isaac burrowed into Jackson’s side even more.

“What about your dad?” Erica added.

“You could have stayed,” Derek said softly, looking up at Stiles.

“Are you serious?” Stiles asked incredulously. “So you wanted me to stick around just so you and your pack could continue to hurt me? Do you have any idea what it was like for me that first week? I had to sit and watch while all of my former friends ignored me! So I left, I have some distant relatives outside of California so I transferred Dad to the closest hospital I could find. It took me three weeks to pull all the strings! So if even one of you had noticed over the course of a month, you could have stopped me, but you didn’t!” Stiles spit the words venomously. The whole pack looked about ready to cry, even Danny, but Stiles kept going.

“Then when everything was set I decided I at least wanted to say goodbye, so I went to Scott’s house.”

Scott gaped at him and anxiety started pouring off Isaac in waves.

“Yeah,” Stiles said with a sigh. “Isaac threw me out on my ass along with several insults from Jackson about my ‘worthless human self,’” Stiles finished with air quotes. “You broke a rib, by the way, so congrats on that,” he added, seemingly as an afterthought. All heads turned to where Isaac and Jackson were huddled together.

Suddenly, a lot more things made sense to Derek. Both Isaac and Jackson had become very submissive to him and Scott, especially after they realized how upset their Alpha was after Stiles disappeared. Everyone knew how Derek felt about Stiles, especially after he left and the two betas seemed eager to help him recover, too eager he now realized. Their various attempts to make it up to them over the years was doing nothing for Derek’s mounting anger. Scott flashed his eyes at the pair and they cowered a bit before he was able to switch them back.

Jackson flinched away from the murderous look Lydia was shooting him but Isaac was even more distressed.

“I didn’t think you would leave!” The beta cried, jumping up from the couch and towards Stiles in an aborted movement. Damien stepped forward with a growl, eyes glowing bright blue.

There was a collective intake of breath from the pack.

“Why are your eyes blue?” Scott asked, narrowing his own.

“Not everyone has the benefit of their best friend to teach them control after they get bit,” Damien responded derisively.

Scott flinched and Damien smiled in satisfaction. Despite himself, Isaac growled, inching forward in threat. Stiles took a small step forward, his eyes flaring molten silver.

“I wouldn’t threaten him,” he whispered dangerously.

Half the pack jumped when there was an abrupt _thump_. Deaton had dropped from where he was perched on the arm of the couch to his knees.

“Spark, please bless this land with your light and protection, for it has been neglected and abused.” His eyes met Stiles’ dead on.

Stiles’ magic swelled and eyes shone brightly at the formal request from a Druid. His tattoos glowed brightly to match his eyes and a phantom breeze blew through the room. The room suddenly smelled like sweet rain and thunder and Derek’s wolf wanted to roll in it.

“Fear not emissary, this land shall be whole again,” he responded with a tilt of his head. 

“Spark?” Scott asked dumbly.

“Mr. Stilinski is a Spark,” Deaton clarified, clearing his throat and standing.

“What does that mean?” Lydia asked impatiently.

“It _means_ ,” Damien drawled, “that he could kill all of you without blinking an eye.”

There were a few chuckles, Derek included, until they realized that neither Stiles or Deaton were laughing.

“The wolf is correct,” Deaton said uneasily, his eyes flicking between Stiles and the pack. Stiles eyed the Druid coolly. All heads snapped towards Peter at the sudden sound of his voice.

“What kind?” He asked casually. Stiles glowered at him.

“There are different kinds?” Kira asked curiously. Deaton nodded.

“There are several, in fact. They each have to do with the different ways a Spark’s power manifests,” Deaton explained carefully, his eyes never leaving Stiles. All eyes turned to the Spark.

“Stiles?” Scott questioned softly. Stiles gritted his teeth and looked away.

“How long do we have to stay?” He growled at the wolf next to him.

~~*~~

Stiles was beyond frustrated. He never thought he would have to see any of his old pack again, yet here he was standing in their goddamn living room. Not for the first time he was glad he learned how to mask his scent and heart rate from other supernatural creatures. His magics scent he couldn’t do anything about, it was just an inherent part of him. Magical creatures would always be able to smell his Spark. Once upon a time it had meant a safe haven, stability for all sorts of creatures. Now it was just more trouble than it was worth.

“Alpha said they couldn’t have rescued us without them,” Damien replied with a shrug.

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation totally missing the gleeful looks that passed among the Hale pack, especially Scott and Derek.

“We could leave,” Damien suggested innocently, smirking at the growl that rumbling unwittingly from Derek’s chest.

“Damien!” Stiles hissed in reprimand, eyeing the pack carefully.

“Actually, Scott didn’t say an exact time, so you can leave whenever you want to,” Jackson said shakily. He cowered when Damien glared. Stiles didn’t even bother to acknowledge his words, just turned towards the door. The speed was almost insulting. No, no it was absolutely insulting and Stiles hoped they felt every bit of it.

~~*~~

“Jackson, what the hell!?” Liam yelled as soon as the door closed. A chorus of growls was aimed at Isaac and Jackson.

Derek was devastated. One look at Scott proved the Alpha was feeling just as terrible. The despair reverberating through the pack bonds and his eyes were glowing a deep, painful red. He turned to Isaac and Jackson and clenched his fists.

“Leave now, before I lose control. Go stay at the loft until I decide what to do with you,” he snarled furiously. They both jumped up from the couch ad tripped over each other in their haste to get out the door. A second engine started and moved away from the house quickly.

There was a quiet shuffle as people finally started moving, all except for Derek.

Lydia laid her hand on his shoulder in sympathy and he gave her a weak smile, but based on the look on her face it must have come across more as a grimace.

He couldn’t believe what happened. In the bunker he’d thought it was a miracle, like maybe he was finally getting lucky after so many years of pain and heartbreak. He came so close to being able to apologize, to finally be able to tell Stiles how he felt all this time, and the spark wanted absolutely nothing to do with them.

He watched as Deaton and Peter spoke in hushed tones, probably about Stiles being a Spark. How had any of them missed _that_? Although, Derek thought wryly, no one had any idea when Stiles’ spark manifested, or how long he’s had the power. After the Nogitsune none of them had been the same, especially Stiles it seemed.

The human had been distant, but now that Derek was looking back, it was obvious that the pack were the ones being distant, not Stiles.

God, they were all so fucked up. How could they have done that to Stiles, to a member of their pack? It had seemed like the right decision at the time.

The meeting they had was about Stiles, but Derek thought they were just going to bench him for a while, maybe limit contact with the pack, not cut him out completely. His dad was in the hospital and Derek was sure Scott would have changed his mind after Theo’s deception came out anyway, but they never got the chance.

By the time they even thought to look, Stiles had been a ghost. Just the thought made him feel sick.

Derek took a deep breath, gathered his resolve, stood up and walked towards the kitchen, he wasn’t going to give up that easily and he knew Scott wouldn’t either.

When he passed by the door, he heard a voice on the wind.

“SCOTT! SCOTT HELP!!”

Derek’s head whipped around the same time as Scott’s from the kitchen and he nearly ripped the hinges off the door in an effort to get it open.

Derek vaulted over the porch railing and barreled down the driveway, the rest of the pack close on his heels.

The pack ran towards Isaac’s screaming and for the first time Derek was regretting putting in what really amounted to a winding road.

They found them close to the end, Jackson’s Porsche stopped sideways like he slammed hard on the breaks. The reason was in front of them. What had to be Stiles’ car was stopped, front doors wide open. Isaac was kneeling on the ground next to Damien, who was trying to hold up a convulsing body while he was wolfed out and literally snapping at Jackson.

Stiles.

Derek felt his heart leap into his throat and he skidded to a stop next to the foursome just as Stiles collapsed into Damien’s lap. His face was pale and little beads of sweat gathered on his forehead.

Damien’s blue eyes turned on the rest of them and he roared. Scott gathered himself and turned on his Alpha mode. Derek had to admit, he wore it well. He motioned for the pack to give them some room before trying to talk to the angered wolf.

“Damien?” the alpha called softly, eyes burning red. Blue eyes snapped to him.

“Damien you need to tell us what’s wrong. What’s happening?” Scott asked authoritatively. They all watched with baited breath as Damien’s features slowly returned to their human state.

“Damien?” Scott questioned again when the fangs receded, keeping his voice gentle and his hands at his side. Derek had to fight his instinct to rip Stiles out of the wolves’ arms.

“I don’t know what’s causing it, i-- it’s happened before, but I’ve always had help… his magic overwhelms his body sometimes..” he trailed off, looking down at Stiles, clearly shaken. His head shot up.

“Where’s your druid!?” he exclaimed, eyes scanning over the pack frantically. Deaton stepped forward quickly, his breath coming in short puffs, having been slower than the rest of them.

“How can I help?”

“Can- can you help me pull up his shirt? He got a new rune before we came, but never got around to telling me what it was for, I can feel it pulsing, maybe you can read it?” Damien said hopefully. Derek had to bite back a jealous growl as Damien rubbed his hand over the Spark’s back. Derek had to give the guy credit, he sounded absolutely wrecked and he was staying more focused than he was.

With Deaton’s help Damien readjusted the body in his arms until they could pull up the side of the tight shirt. The rune was on his side, but the shirt pushed high enough that Derek could see the edges of a large, black tattoo.

Deaton scrutinized the rune for a moment before speaking. “Roughly translated it just means pack,” the druid said helplessly looking back at Damien. The wolf paled considerably.

“Shit! Of course! He told me he was going to get one to connect him to Andy and the pack! He must have finally done it!” Stiles stirred in his arms and he grabbed at the wolf weakly.

“Andy,” he gasped out, his back rolling again. “H-hunters.” Damien and Derek both snarled.

“The hunters from the compound, they must have had friends that they tried to call in when we attacked,” Scott exclaimed furiously, pulling out his phone. He still had Alpha Mead’s number from before. He pressed dial and held the phone to his ear.

No answer.

“We have to go,” Stiles gasped out weakly, struggling to sit up. Derek reached out to steady him when he moaned and clutched at his head.

“Stiles you can barely stand!” Scott said disapprovingly, watching as Derek and Damien helped the wobbly spark to his feet. Scott couldn’t help but notice the hurt flash across Derek’s face when Stiles intentionally leaned more towards Damien. Stiles shook his head.

“I’m fine.”

Scott snorted, how many times had he heard his former best friend use those words? He wasn’t going to let it slide this time, but he also knew how stubborn Stiles was, that part of his personality certainly hadn’t changed. 

“At least let us help you?” he pleaded. Stiles narrowed his eyes at them from where he was still leaning against Damien tiredly.

“Stiles, they helped us find you, we owe them.” Derek went for the guilt trip, it was low, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Stiles,” Damien added quietly, “we could use the help. We don’t know anything about these hunters and neither of us is fully recovered.”

Stiles huffed.

“Fine, let’s get going, but you all stay out of my way,” he snarled, but given how tired he was it sounded more like a kitten trying to roar. Scott and Derek smiled anyway.

“Parrish, run back with Liam and Danny and grab my truck, it still has some weapons and herbs in the backseat, in case we need them,” Scott ordered, then he turned to Deaton. “Can you open the clinic for standby, in case there are injuries? Take Lydia with you, she can help.” He worded it delicately, but Stiles still let loose an angry pulse of magic.

Deaton merely nodded and started back up the driveway after the others. Lydia glanced at Stiles before looking back at Derek. She reached out and squeezed his hand and Derek nodded. He knew exactly what she was saying. She took off after Deaton.

The rest of them crammed into the two available cars. It was a testament to how serious the situation was that Jackson didn’t once bitch about the number of people in his teeny backseat, or that he let Peter in the car at all. One unfortunate incident with a blown tire had gotten Peter banned from even riding in the Porsche.

Stiles gave Derek the name of the motel Andy and the pack were staying at as they sped out of the preserve. Luckily it was one on the outskirts of town so they might not have to worry about law enforcement getting involved or people seeing. Not that it really mattered. Derek informed Stiles that they had decided to bring the new Sheriff and a few key deputies in on the secret, so they had back up and a cover if they needed it.

Scott could tell that Damien was reluctantly impressed and he wondered just how long he and Stiles had been on their own. His heart ached for what could have been. He looked over to Derek. The older man was watching Damien hold Stiles in the rear view mirror, the envy written all over his face, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

It looked like Stiles was meditating. Scott watched in fascination as the sickly paleness receded from Stiles’ skin. Damien answered his silent question.

“He’s healing himself a bit before the fight.” Scott nodded. He continued to watch as the healthy tan color spread across the mole dotted skin.

It was amazing, even seeing this tiny example of Stiles magic. The car filled slowly with the scent of ozone and the sweet lemon and burnt sugar smell that was uniquely Stiles. God Derek missed that smell. He could see the long breathes Scott was pulling in and knew he felt the same. When he was weak, it seemed like Stiles had less control over his scent. Derek calmed as the scent washed over the car, growing stronger every second. Scott’s hands relaxed on the wheel and he glanced sideways at Derek. The older wolf knew what his alpha was trying to tell him.

No matter what happened there was no way they were letting Stiles get away from them again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I have ZERO excuses, this quarantine has just zapped all of my creative energy. 
> 
> XOXOXOXO

All the wolves wrinkled their noses at the heavy smell of gunpowder and blood and ducked down behind the car.

These hunters were obviously out for blood.

Stiles crept to the edge of the car and scanned the building quickly.

“They knew we would come, they have ten wolves behind the motel, unconscious from wolfsbane gas, the rest are dead.” Stiles ground his teeth together audibly and Derek was overwhelmed at the scent of anger and hatred. He gripped the edge of the car hard enough to dent it.

No fear though, it was obvious that Stiles wasn’t afraid of much of anything anymore.

“Andy?” Damien asked quietly from behind him. Stiles shook his head noncommittally in answer. He shrugged off the hand that gripped his shoulder and turned to face them.

The magic in the air was palpable, and the pack watched with wide eyes as magic started rolling off Stiles in waves. 

“Be careful, they killed humans, too. These obviously aren’t the type of hunters that follow a code,” he said harshly. He looked specifically at Scott when he said it. The Alpha bristled, but he understood. Stiles didn’t know them any better than they knew him now.

“How can you tell?” Erika asked softly. Stiles jerked a hand towards the front of the motel and they all peered around the car cautiously.

Scott snarled.

There was a body slumped over the retro decorated counters.

Derek opened his mouth to talk strategy, but was cut off by the _pop_ of what could only be a silencer.

“It came from the back of the hotel,” Scott whispered, motioning for the rest of the pack to follow closely. Stiles hung back and let Scott lead, which surprised Derek, but he wasn’t going to question it. Especially when Damien all but admitted they weren’t back to full strength.

They crossed the parking lot silently, listening closely for any signs of movement, from either hunter or wolf. There was a low murmur of voices coming from the same direction of the silencer, other than that, not a damn thing. 

They came to the bottom of a set of busted out windows and Scott motioned to Derek to go ahead. The former alpha nodded and swung his muscled body over the ledge in a motion a gymnast would be proud of. No one dared to comment on how Stiles’ eyes followed Derek’s movement.

After a tense few moments Derek’s tanned hand came over the side, motioning to them that it was safe to follow.

One by one they slipped into the darkened room and made their way towards the door leading to the hallway. The scent of fear and blood was heavy and the odor of wolfsbane lingering in the air made their eyes water when they opened the door. 

The whole place was dark it seemed, which gave them an advantage, Derek noted happily.

They followed the hallway as it curved to the right and opened into a great room leading to the back of the hotel where they approached another set of windows.

Derek’s blood boiled when he saw the line of hunters guarding the remaining wolves. The Mead pack was in no condition to fight. They were bloody, banged up and mostly passed out. Derek zeroed in on Andy and his father and listened intently for any heartbeats.

He slowly turned to look at Stiles and Damien and shook his head negatively. Stiles took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were bright violet.

“Stay here,” he snarled quietly turning towards the nearest set of stairs. Scott lurched towards him, but Damien yanked him back with a low growl, raising his eyebrows at the snarl he received in return.

Luckily, the hunters couldn’t hear their subvocal pissing match, but Derek elbowed Scott anyway. They all listened carefully as Stiles made his way up the stairs and towards the balcony hanging slightly behind the group outside. 

There had to be at least twenty hunters surrounding the passed out wolves and Derek had no idea what Stiles was going to do, his palms started sweating.

Then, like goddamn Iron Man, Stiles flew off the balcony and landed in the middle of a group of armed, werewolf hating bad guys.

Derek was going to kill him.

They blew to the left and right, but recovered quickly, yelling at Stiles and each other. They came straight for the Spark and Erika cried out as one guy was about to land a vicious right hook. Stiles blasted him off his feet with what looked like purple smoke.

Stiles danced around the second hunter and slammed his fist into the nose of another. Derek wasn’t the only one with his mouth open in awe. Stiles had always been quick on his feet, but this was _magnificent_. Stiles blew through the hunters like he was made of smoke himself. Derek was just distracted enough that he almost missed it. 

The bullet narrowly missed the side of Stiles’ head, it was close enough that the pack could smell the slightly burned hair. Derek couldn’t stand it anymore. Scott met his eyes and nodded once harshly and they had a silent conversation. Neither of them was willing to lose Stiles again. Derek unsheathed his claws, rumbled to the rest of the pack, and rushed out after the Spark.

“Wait!! What the hell--“ Damien spluttered. The rest of them vehemently ignored his protest and followed their pack leaders.

Derek knew from Stiles’ glare that they fucked up, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. Especially when the hunters looked startled at the fire oozing from Parrish’s body and Kira’s katana. 

These hunters were definitely out for blood, Stiles’ blood particularly. They didn’t seem to share the same sentiment about his value as the ones in the bunker. They targeted him almost exclusively, except when they needed to fend off attacking wolves.

Derek was concentrated fully on protecting Stiles, so he totally missed the bullet lodging into Jackson’s shoulder. Jackson cried out in pain and Scott roared, charging the hunter whose gun was still smoking.

The hunter popped off two more rounds, Scott dodged and dove, coming up beside the man rather than in front. One harsh hit had the man flying backwards into the pool.

Apparently that was the motivation the humans needed. The hunters started to gather together to fend off the remaining attacks, shooting in tandem rather than wildly.

“Enough!” Stiles snarled, ripping off his shirt. Derek would have laughed if it weren’t for the seriousness of the situation. Stiles’ hands shot out, blowing the pack farther away from the action, and the hunters off their feet.

The pack started to protest loudly, but Damien shushed them and jerked his head towards where the hunters were standing back up silently, watching.

Stiles brought his hands together, almost like he was praying for a moment. Derek watched in awe as silver streaks slithered up his arms and chest and sunk into his tattoos, lighting them up from the inside, before pushing them out and away from him. A bright silver light shot out from his palms and he slammed them down to the ground.

“I would move if I were you!” Damien yelled to the wolves, already sprinting away from the glowing boy. Derek looked at Scott and they both nodded before turning and following Damien who clearly had experience with this particular facet of Stiles’ magic.

The ground under Stiles’ fingers shifted and groaned as it split open. Cracks and fissures chased the hunters who were running, screaming and shooting at Stiles. Derek watched in fascinated horror from what Damien deemed their safe distance as the bullets hit the air around Stiles and bounced off, clinking to the ground uselessly.

The pack watched in awe as silver and green ribbons of colors shot through the tumbling earth and chased the hunters until one by one they fell into the ground.

“Holy shit, Stilinski,” Jackson murmured under his breath. Several people nodded their agreement.

“I told you, you had no idea what you threw away,” Damien said scathingly, eyeing Isaac and Jackson. Both wolves ducked their heads and the scent of shame radiated. 

As if some silent signal had had been given Damien suddenly rushed from their safety zone towards Stiles, who was walking towards them. Well, wobbling towards them. It was clear that the Spark was drained, literally and physically.

He reached out and caught Damien’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear. They heard Damien’s reply.

“I got you, Mica,” he said softly.

As he gathered the now passed out spark in his arms and headed towards the car his expression could only be described as loving. Not in a romantic way, Derek was sure. But he smelled of a deep love, the kind that only comes with knowing another person at their core. He was startled to realize that he didn’t know Stiles like that anymore, none of them did.

They watched as Damien gently laid Stiles down in the backseat of their car.

“I need to get him somewhere safe, can we go to your pack house?” Damien didn’t bother raising his voice, knowing the wolves would all hear him.

“Of course,” Scott responded gently while Derek visibly preened at the notion that Damien considered their pack house safe for the Spark’s recovery. Scott then turned to Parrish.

“Can you clean this up? Call in some people to help the survivors?” Parrish nodded, claiming Peter and Kira to help. Scott pulled Kira in for a quick kiss before she ran over to the tangle of limbs and flesh left behind. Derek grimaced, he didn’t envy them one bit.

Everyone else was ushered into the cars, a few of them riding in the bed of Scott’s truck to accommodate the sleeping Stiles. No one minded.

Peter opened the door and ushered them into the kitchen where Lydia and Deaton were waiting, Scott having summoned them from the clinic on the way there. They had piles of pillows and blankets off to the side.

Damien rolled his eyes at their overcompensation, but laid him down anyway. He motioned for Lydia to put one of the pillows under Stiles’ head. 

“Is he going to be alright?” Isaac asked timidly.

“Do you care?” Damien snapped back.

“Hey,” Scott softly defended, “come one man, we care.” Damien narrowed his eyes at him and turned back to Stiles.

“He’ll be fine, it’s just exhaustion from using too much magic. I need to do a few things though, can you help me turn him over?” He motioned to Derek, who didn’t hesitate.

The pack watched as Damien and Derek flipped Stiles’ body gently. There were several gasps as Stiles’ back was fully revealed. The tattoo Derek glimpsed during the fight was a giant, black wolf with glowing red eyes. It covered the entire expanse of Stiles’ muscular back. It looked like Derek’s full shift wolf when he was still an alpha. Derek gritted his jaw and the rest of the pack could feel the potent cocktail of emotions he was putting off and wisely kept their mouths shut.

Damien was too distracted to notice that everyone in the room had gone quiet all of a sudden. He pulled a tube out of his pocket, just like the one from the warehouse except green this time and emptied the contents into his hand and started rubbing it gently into Stiles’ skin.

“How does that work?” Lydia asked curiously after the stunned silence lessened. “I thought his magic was based on his will, how does that run out?” Damien sighed and stopped rubbing for a moment.

“It’s hard to explain.” He looked at Deaton for help and the man preened.

“The magic doesn’t run out, but I assume Mr. Stilinski isn’t fully recovered from what the hunters did to him before?” Damien nodded solemnly. 

“He should have been at home recovering, but instead we had to come here.” It was said without the usual malice, but the majority of the pack winced anyway.

“So what he had to use today was on top of everything they did, and it was too much. His body and mind need to heal,” Deaton finished. Damien nodded again.

“So…. he’ll be ok?” Isaac asked again, not making eye contact with anyone. Scott moved to stand beside him and cupped the back of his neck.

“He’ll be fine, Zac. But I still want you and Jackson to go to the loft for a few days until I decide what to do, ok?” Neither argued, they just gathered a few things and left.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for them to be here when Stiles wakes up,” Scott said sadly, glancing at Stiles unconscious form before turning to the rest of the pack.

“Alright, let’s take turns getting cleaned up.” Damien needed some room to work and Scott could tell the wolf was antsy with so many people around he didn’t consider pack.

None of the pack seemed eager to move but with some gentle coaxing they started filtering through the showers, comforted by the fact that Damien would be with staying with Stiles. Kira finished first and then made her way into the kitchen and started making sandwiches. Derek came back down next and sat down in a chair next to the table. One by one the rest of the pack crowded into the room, watching Damien work quietly. 

The salve never seemed to run out, and now that Derek was back in the room he detected a sweet scent he hadn’t before. Damien rubbed it into each tattoo methodically, until he had covered the whole of Stiles’ back and arms.

Derek couldn’t help but stare at the wolf. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he had a feeling none of them would be well received, especially now, so he kept his mouth shut.

Damien finally finished and motioned to Derek to help turn Stiles back over and Lydia fluffed the pillow before placing under his head again before Damien started on his arms, shoulders and chest.

When it was finally finished no one said anything for a few minutes. They all just listened to the sound of Stiles breathing, watching his chest move up and down slowly.

“Now that Mr. Stilinski is a bit more stable, I’m going to head back to the clinic to await the incoming wolves,” Deaton said to Scott, who nodded and moved aside so the vet could get past. Everyone else stayed put.

Derek knew what they were all feeling. Stiles had just stumbled back into their lives, albeit unwillingly, and none of them were ready to lose him again so soon.

With the morbid direction of his thoughts, he could be forgiven if Damien’s abrupt statement made him jerk and almost fall out of his chair.

“He died, you know,” Damien whispered softly, stroking Stiles’ hair. The whole pack seemed to stiffen at once.

“What? Who died? Stiles?!” Lydia shrieked and the pack winced. Liam actually clapped his hands over his ears.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I meant,” Damien continued.

“What?!” This time all of them yelled and Lydia glared at the rest of them until the chorus of voices quieted.

“His dad, he died,” Damien repeated, finally looking up from Stiles’ face. Derek sucked in a breath and looked to Scott who had turned a deathly shade of white all the way to his knuckles where he was gripping the table hard enough there were sure to be dents. Erika placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and he seemed to sag against her slightly.

“That’s how Stiles and I met actually, in a support group for kids who’d lost parents in law enforcement.” Damien casually stood up and leaned his hip on the table. It was clearly an effort to shield Stiles while he was hurt, most likely Damien didn’t even know he was doing it. 

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Scott whispered, voice breaking slightly. Damien glared at him.

“Did you honestly expect him to? After what your pack did to him?” There was a chorus of growls but Damien continued anyway.

“Look, I would kill your entire pack if it would make Stiles happy, but I don’t think it would, so just shut up and listen for a minute,” the were snarled. The silence was immediate.

“He’ll kill me, but you guys need to know a few things,” Damien continued softly.

“Why?” Derek asked suspiciously.

“Honestly, so you’ll leave us alone after this!” The snarl was back. “It took me a hell of a long time to convince him that he’s worth more than what you made him feel and I will kill each and every one of you before I let him fall back into that!” The steadiness of his heart told them just how serious he was.

The pack was gutted.

Derek looked at the boy laying on his kitchen table, no not boy, man. Stiles was forced to grow up, abandoned by his pack.

And hell if he would let it happen again. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sudden burst of creative energy hit me today and this is the result, yay!! These stories never go the exact way we plan, so I decided that I'm extending this to more than four chapters.
> 
> We get to learn about Damien's backstory this chapter, yay again!!!
> 
> Also, so much drama!!
> 
> XOXOXOXOXO

Damien was practically vibrating and the waves of anger rolling off him were choking in their intensity.

“You have no idea the _hell_ we went through. You have no idea about the hell I went through with _him_!!” Damien snarled viciously, gesturing emphatically towards the sleeping Spark.

“Tell us about it” Scott replied calmly, crossing his arms across his chest and resting his hip against the table. Derek admired the control he was showing. The only way they were going to get the answers they wanted, no _needed_ , was to stay calm and not antagonize Damien any further.

“I met Mica when I was seventeen,” he said started softly. “I had just lost my dad and I guess Stiles was in the area already looking for the Alpha already, but he stopped into this meeting, the one I mentioned before, just because he needed it I guess.”

The anger was replaced by the acrid scent of shame as he hung his head.

“I was bitten by an alpha who went crazy, he lost his mate and never recovered. He had killed most of his pack by then and absorbed their power. He was crazy strong and crazed out of his mind.”

Derek shivered, thinking about Deucalion and he saw Erika shift uncomfortably from where she was sitting on Boyd’s lap.

“Stiles must have smelled him on me or something, because he ended up following me home. My house happened to be next to a small wooded area that he was hiding in. I took my dog out and well…” he trailed off, motioning towards his side.

“Did-did Stiles save you?” Scott asked cautiously. Damien laughed without humor.

“That idiot. I was laying on the ground bleeding everywhere and all I could see was this blur of movement. The sounds were vicious and I freaked out, so I drug myself back towards the house. I got to the back steps and everything stopped. When I looked back, I saw this dude I met once strolling out of the woods with a god damn severed head in his hands.” Damien shuddered at the memory. “I thought he was gonna kill me, honestly. But as soon as he reached me, he fell flat on his face.”

“Was he hurt?!” Derek asked quickly. Damien snorted.

“Damn idiot was fucking drunk off his ass.” Total silence met his declaration. Jaws dropped open all around.

“He was drunk?” Scott whispered, looking over to where Stiles lay silently. Derek couldn’t remember Stiles ever even drinking, the one exception being Lydia’s party after Scott got bit, but even then he wasn’t falling over.

“He drank a lot back then,” Damien sighed, rubbing a hand across his neck. “It took a few years to help him break that particular habit. And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. Mica’s spark burns through alcohol pretty damn fast, he had to drink _a lot_ to actually get drunk like that. Sometimes I wondered how he was even alive.” Damien grimaced.

The guilt stabbed Derek in the gut. If they hadn’t pushed Stiles away…

“Don’t even!” Damien snapped harshly. Derek’s eyes snapped back to him.

“I’m not telling you any of this so you can have a fucking pity party,” he said angrily, looking at all of them. Derek swallowed down the lump in his throat and gestured for him to continue.

“I managed to carry him in my house and dump him on the couch and I ended up passed out on the floor next to him.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “The next bit is pretty fuzzy for me, I only remember bits and pieces. I woke up later and all I remember is my head pounding and the pain. We’re not really sure what happened, but the best we can figure is that the alpha transferred some sort of power into me when he bit me, I- I couldn’t handle it.” Damien hunched over on himself. “I was starting to shift and was freaking out. I called my Uncle.” He winced.

Derek could imagine what was coming next. Damien cleared his throat.

“Stiles woke up just as my uncle came through the door, but it was too late.”

Scott nodded in sympathy, no doubt remembering when he tried to kill Stiles his first full moon.

“Stiles, god he was amazing, he pinned me against the wall and talked me down. Then he told me to run into the woods while he called nine-one-one. I was so scared and confused, I just did what he told me to.” Damien shrugged uncomfortably, the pain clearly written on his face. “He told the police that he was a friend and my uncle had been attacked and I was taken hostage, I still can’t figure out how he got them to believe him.” He snorted again. 

Derek almost smiled. Stiles could talk people into almost anything.

“So how are you here now?” Lydia asked curiously. Damien gave her a half smile.

“I’m still officially a missing person.” He said nonchalantly. His heart jumped though, so it obviously still bothered him. Derek didn’t blame him. Lydia raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with Scott.

“Even after all this time?”

More shame and embarrassment wafted.

“My uncle was all I had after my dad, no other family,” Damien responded quietly, looking at the ground.

_Well shit._

No wonder the kid’s eyes were blue.

“So you two stayed together?” Scott questioned. Damien smiled softly.

“I don’t think he meant for me to tag along, I know it frustrated him in the beginning, but he needed someone more than he realized, I think. He had been alone almost a year by that point.”

Scott nodded in understanding and it was silent for several heartbeats.

“So that means the Sheriff died shortly after Stiles transferred him away from Beacon Hills?” Lydia asked quietly, eyes glassy with emotion.

Damien hesitated, but nodded again. Derek wanted to rip something apart. Scott’s hand slipped onto his shoulder in comfort.

Nobody spoke for several minutes, the silence only broken by the shrill ringing of Scott’s phone.

“It’s Parrish,” he murmured, moving towards the living room before he answered it, talking quietly. Derek nodded his acknowledgement as the alpha walked away.

 _Jesus._ Derek took a second to absorb everything Damien told them. Stiles had killed an _alpha._ And not just any alpha. A wolf on par with any from the Alpha Pack. And Stiles did that not all that long after he left Beacon Hills. Derek couldn’t help but wonder what else happened since Stiles had been gone.

Scott came back into the room and cleared his throat. “They’re on their way back.”

Some of the tension bled out of Lydia’s shoulders at the news and Damien looked relived.

“I’m glad the rest of your pack is safe,” he said sincerely. Scott nodded his thanks.

“Any hunters?” Derek asked tensely. Scott shook his head.

“None that they saw or sensed, looks like Stiles took care of all of them. Kira said it looked like an earthquake split the ground where we were, but you can’t really see anything.” Scott said, looking as relieved as Derek felt.

“What about the Mead Pack?” Damien asked nervously. Scott looked at him sadly.

“Only a few of them managed to hang on long enough to make it to Deaton’s, we’re not sure what the hunters did to them, but it’s nearly killed them all,” Scott replied helplessly. Damien slammed his fist down onto the table, causing half the pack to jump.

“Dammit!” he cried.

“Damien-“ Scott tried, but Damien cut him off.

“No! Those bastards knew exactly how to kill them! That’s why Stiles got taken in the first place!” He cried.

“What does that mean, Damien?” Scott asked patiently, hands out and hovering near the angry wolf. Damien snarled, his eyes flaring dangerously.

“In the bunker, those men who had us weren’t hunters, they were _traders._ ” He spit the word with so much venom, Derek nearly flinched.

“They’ve been after Mica for years!! Once they caught on to what they thought he was, they’ve been relentless! First they just tried to get him to “share” some of his power, which, if they were smart they would know is impossible for any magic user to do, but then they just wanted to take it from him. But you can’t take magic by force, it’s too wrapped up in the soul,” Damien rushed out.

“So how did they want to take it,” Scott asked confused. Damien just stared at him.

“They were going to blackmail him into giving it up, Scott,” Lydia said, her voice trembling. Derek’s head snapped back around to Damien, who nodded sadly.

“So the ‘miscalculation’ Stiles mentioned?” Scott asked hesitantly.

“Andy,” Damien confirmed, shaking his head, “they were trying to lure Andy there because they thought he was going to be Stiles’ mate, but they weren’t expecting two packs so Stiles let his guard down. We had no idea they employed the extra hunters, they’ve never done that before!” Damien said, tugging at his hair in frustration.

Derek’s gut burned with jealously, but he tamped it down forcefully, now was _not_ the time, and he had no claim on the rescued Spark. 

“We should have expected it,” Damien said with disgust. None of the pack knew what to say.

“Are there more coming after him?” Derek asked with concern, the rest of the packed waiting anxiously for Damien’s answer.

“No, between the bunker and now the hotel, they’re all probably dead.” He responded quietly. Derek and Scott exchanged a look, promising a conversation later.

The tension in the room lessened now that they knew they were safe, at least for the time being.

“Hey man, it’s not your fault,” Scott said, trying to comfort Damien. They were looking up at him and nodded shakily.

“I learned how to let shit go, it’s him I’m worried about.” His head jerked towards Stiles. Derek knew Damien was right, there was no way Stiles wouldn’t think this was his fault. It also explained why he chose to decimate the hunters instead of just running them off.

They sat there until Damien’s breathing evened out again and he was a little calmer.

“When did Stiles start getting his tattoos?” Erika suddenly asked curiously, now that the mood was a little lighter, it didn’t seem quite as invasive to ask.

Damien looked a bit startled by the abrupt change in topic, but he answered anyway.

“He had a few before I met him, but he gets them when he needs them. I was so jealous when I saw them for the first time,” he said with a grin. “I pouted for a solid week when he told me werewolves couldn’t get tattoos because of the healing.”

There were several snickers and Damien shrugged.

“Not my proudest moment, but I was still getting used to be a werewolf.” Derek cleared his throat awkwardly.

“What about the wolf?” He asked, pointing towards Stiles’ back, resolutely ignoring the knowing looks from the rest of the pack. Damien frowned at him.

“That one is magic and Stiles’ story to tell,” he said firmly. Derek nodded guiltily.

“You can use magic for tattoos?” Erika questioned eagerly. Damien nodded.

“Yeah, you can, but don’t ask me how it works. Stiles tested it on me, so I know it does, but the logistics are really weird.” He added with a slight shrug.

“But it worked?” Erika stressed. Another nod. The pack shifted around excitedly at the confirmation.

“And the tattoo?” Lydia prompted. Damien shrugged again.

“Hurt like a bitch but at least there was no fire involved.” Damien grinned cheekily as he pulled up his shirt to show them. In bold scrawled letters it read, **Trigger** across the left side of his ribs.

“What does it mean?” Scott asked curiously.

“It was for my dad,” Damien answered quietly, smiling fondly down at the tattoo.

“Wait!! Trigger?!” Liam’s head popped up from where it had been resting on his arms. Damien sighed, but nodded, grimacing slightly.

“OH MY GOD!!!” Liam screeched in delight. The whole pack flinched and Boyd reached out and Gibbs slapped Liam, who barreled on, undeterred.

“Scott!! Remember I told you about those guys?! The ones from the forum websites?!” Liam struggled to pull his phone out of his pocket, almost dropping it in his excitement.

“Yeah?” Scott answered dazedly, trying to figure out where the beta was going with this.

“It’s them!!!” Liam crowed, jumping up and shoving his phone in the Alpha’s face. Understanding dawned on Derek. For years Liam had been regaling the pack with news of two guys, who the supernatural internet had deemed Tattoo and Trigger.

Apparently they were ‘oh my God Scott so amazing you have to see this!’ and the whole supernatural community waited for news of them with bated breath. The pack had been happy to indulge Liam’s little crush since it made him so happy, but they hadn’t taken any of it seriously.

Derek gritted his teeth, Liam was _never_ going to let this go.

He opened his mouth to counter Liam’s unbridled glee, but a shimmer coming from one of the tattoos on Stiles’ chest stopped him.

Stiles heaved off the table, reaching out blindly a wounded scream tearing out of his throat.

His eyes opened slowly. They were black.

~~~*~~~

The haze behind his eyes started to lift, awareness creeping in slowly. What the hell? Where was he? He felt around for his spark in his chest as he registered Damien’s voice, soft and sure, but who..

Oh.

OH.

_Andy was dead. Oh god, what did he do!? Jesus Christ the one time he actually found someone he could be close to again and he’s fucking slaughtered by hunters. They needed to leave. Havetoleave, havetoleave, havetoleave.._

He channeled all his remaining energy into his muscles to get them to move but they were locked in place, refusing to budge. He dug deeper, there had to be _something_.

He jerked back mentally when he felt the tendrils of his black magic curl around his heart.

_No. No.No.NO!_

It was already beyond his control if he could feel it. His body jolted upright without his permission and all he could see was darkness.

He heard the screaming distantly, not realizing it was coming from him until he felt a warm body under his hands. He clung to it desperately, needed the connection.

“ _Stiles_.” A desperate voice cut through the haze.

~~~*~~~

“Shit, SHIT!!” Damien yelled frantically. He grabbed onto Stiles’ shoulders. Derek and Scott jumped into action around him, pulling the rest of the pack away from Stiles’ thrashing body.

“Help me keep him down!” he yelled as Stiles let loose another blood curdling scream.

Scott and Derek rushed to grab hold of what they could reach as everyone else looked on. Lydia had her hands clamped over her ears from the power of his screams.

Within seconds it became clear that they wouldn’t be able to hold him for long. Derek watched the body of the man he cared for so much strain against their hold and knew he had to do something. He took a deep breath and channeled all the power he could muster into one word.

“ _STILES!”_

Everything stopped.

Like something straight out of a horror movie, Stiles’ blackened eyes turned to Derek.

They were deep, dark and unseeing. A pit of nothing. It scared Derek to his core. Stiles mouth opened wide.

A jolt of energy slammed through the werewolf’s body and he gasped, it didn’t hurt really, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant either.

The three wolves were thrown away from the table and it felt like all the air was being sucked from the room and into the Spark’s mouth, open unnaturally wide, until the same air, now shimmering with energy _whooshed_ back out, sending everyone except Lydia to their knees with it’s power.

Stiles slumped back down to the table, breathing heavily.

Derek, Damien and Scott rose to their feet cautiously watching Stiles uncertainly. Scott turned to asses the pack and check on Lydia and Derek inched back towards the table with Damien, stopping abruptly when Stiles’ started moving, sitting up to face them, his head in his hands.

He was so pale that Derek was immediately reminded of how Scott described the Nogitsune before it turned to dust. Terror and shame radiated from his lithe frame and his body was racked with shivers.

A poke to his shoulder had him looking over at Damien, who had his eyebrows raised. He jerked his head towards the Spark, motioning that Derek should get closer.

Derek gulped nervously, but he wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to touch Stiles after so many years, so he stepped closer. Stiles didn’t move, so he took another step, and another, until he was right in front of the distraught young man. He raised his arms up slowly, carefully until he could reach around Stiles’ body.

Stiles stiffened at the contact, but didn’t pull away. Derek pulled him into his body and held tight until Stiles gave in and slumped against him tiredly.

Derek grinned softly and turned to look at Scott, who was positively beaming.

After a few minutes the color returned to Stiles’ neck and arms and his shallow breathing evened out, almost like he was going to pass out again.

Until the slamming of the door caused him to jump up and flail out of Derek’s hold.

Derek couldn’t help but glare at Parrish, who came running through the door with Kira and Peter close on his heels.

“What the hell happened?” Parrish demanded, pulling a shaking Lydia into his arms roughly. Scott looked at Derek helplessly, but Derek had no idea what to tell them. He had no clue what just happened. So, he looked to Stiles.

Stiles reached out for Damien and gingerly placed his feet on the ground before answering.

“My possession left some dark magic in me, it can be hard to control when I get angry.” His voice sounded scratchy and hoarse.

“That’s not all it is,” Lydia said stiffly, Parrish's arms tightened around her and he nodded in agreement.

“You’re shrouded in death,” he added grimly. 

Stiles narrowed his eyes at her and looked up at Damien, who looked at the floor guiltily.

“I, uh, may have told them some things,” he said softly.

“We weren’t even here for that information and he can see it,” Peter said disapprovingly, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I can see some of it too.” He added uncomfortably, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

Stiles glared at them. Damien shifted awkwardly next to him.

“Stiles,” Derek said softly, using the voice Stiles used to love so much. “Please just tell us what happened, we’re worried about you.”

Stiles’ glare turned downright venomous when he turned it on Derek. He glanced up at Damien again and Derek couldn’t help but be hurt when his face softened.

“You told them?” Damien shook his head.

“I only told them it happened, not how,” he answered with a wince. Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Alright, look, it was a few years ago. I went head to head with a manticore and lost,” Stiles said heatedly, like it wasn’t a pleasant memory, which Derek supposed it wouldn’t be.

“Manticore are real!?” Liam asked incredulously, turning red when he was shushed by the rest of the pack.

“Yes,” Stiles continued. “Like I said, I lost that one pretty hard and there was no one around, so I died.” He ignored the gasps that followed. “The black magic brought me back, and now when I get angry or upset, it can be tough to control.”

“Tough to control?” Peter asked, raising a sardonic eyebrow. Stiles scowled at him.

“Does it hurt?” Scott ventured to ask.

“No.”

“Is that all we get?” Lydia said with a sniff. Stiles blew out a frustrated breath.

“I’m not even sure why I’m telling you any of this.” He gestured to the pack as a whole. “It’s really none of your business!” He growled, standing up shakily. Damien’s hands flew to his shoulders to help steady him, but Stiles shrugged them off.

“Lets go,” he growled to Damien, who looked at Derek imploringly. It was clear he was worried about this most recent outburst from Stiles’ magic. If they had any shot at helping Stiles through it, they needed to make him stay.

It also didn’t help that every fiber of Derek’s being rebelled at the thought of Stiles leaving when he was still so unstable. He met Scott’s eyes desperately.

“Stiles,” Scott pleaded almost frantically, “you’re hurt and you need to recover. I know being here with us isn’t ideal, but until we know there won’t be retaliation from other hunters you should stay. We have plenty of spare rooms that are kept closed, so Damien won’t have to worry about pack smells and no one will bother you, I promise.” Scott knew it was a long shot that they wouldn’t be able to keep Stiles from leaving if he wanted to, but it was worth a try. Stiles needed to see that they weren’t the same pack that he left seven years ago, they were better, stronger, more worthy of him.

They could take care of him now the way they couldn’t back then.

“Mica,” Damien said quietly. “I could use a few more days to heal at least, before we have to make the trek home. Plus, this has been happening more and more, maybe their druid can help us figure it out.”

More and more? Stiles definitely wasn’t telling them everything.

Derek knew he wasn’t doing it for them, but he smiled gratefully at Damien anyway. The scowl he received in return he resolutely ignored. The pack held their breath watching the emotions play out over Stiles’ face. Finally he answered.

“Fine,” he gritted out. “I need to perform the ritual Deaton asked of me anyway so we might as well spend that time recovering too. It’ll probably take me a few days and I’ll need a few things.” He looked at Scott expectantly, coldly. Trying hard to hide his excitement, Scott nodded his head towards their resident banshee.

“Lydia and Deaton can get you anything you need.” Stiles nodded before moving away to grab for Damien again. He slung his arm over the wolf’s shoulder and hobbled with him towards the doorway.

“Where can he rest?” Damien asked as they passed Scott.

There was a flurry of movement, like no one was _actually_ expecting them to stay. Liam led them upstairs to one of the spare rooms while everyone else started the process of cleanup and a quick dinner. It had been a long few day and they were all exhausted and hungry.

Scott and Derek listened to the sounds of Damien no doubt putting an unwilling Stiles to bed and they exchanged a smile. It was nice hearing Stiles moving around the house. The Spark had left before they rebuilt the pack house, but they made sure to include a little bit of him in every part of the building.

Now all they had to do was convince him to stay. 


End file.
